A Life in the Darkness
by Queen of Erebor
Summary: Cuilwen Morwen Thranduileth of Mirkwood has a sad history. Her mother died in childbirth, and her father blames her for the death of the Queen. He has never loved her. All she has is Legolas, her protective older brother. That is, until a certain Dwarven Company comes to the once-Greenwood, changing the life of this elleth forever... (Thorin/OC)
1. Prologue

*******DISCLAIMER***** I am only going to say this once. I do not own any things you may recognize from The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings. I only own my original character, Cuilwen Morwen Thranduileth, and her mother, Queen Tawariell, and perhaps a few other assorted characters.**

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**Prologue**

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***Third Person POV***

Thranduil held tightly to his wife's hand as she struggled to bring their second child into the world.

"You can do it, Tawariell," he encouraged her. "You are almost there. You can do this."

The queen gritted her teeth at the pain as sweat rolled down her forehead.

"Once more, my lady," the midwife said soothingly. "One more push."

With a loud cry, Tawariell did as she was told. A small cry was heard, and the queen relaxed, closing her eyes.

"A daughter, your majesties," the midwife proclaimed, handing the child to Thranduil. "A beautiful baby girl."

The Elven-king took the child carefully. Tawariell opened her eyes, and upon seeing the babe, motioned her husband to let her hold her child.

"I am weakening," she whispered, gazing at her daughter. "I can feel Mandos calling me."

"No Tawariell," Thranduil said desperately. "You are strong. You must fight him!"

She smiled wanly. "No one can fight death, my heart."

Legolas, a fully grown ellon, entered the room to find his mother dying, his new-born sister in his mother's arms. He drew nearer to the bed to hear her softly spoken words.

"Her name... is Cuilwen," Tawariell said, struggling to speak. Her eyes fell on Thranduil, beseeching him. "Promise me, husband. Her name is Cuilwen."

Thranduil nodded, tears falling from his eyes. "I swear, my heart."

With that, the Queen of Eryn Lasgalen drew her last breath and departed for the Halls of Waiting, the domain of the Lord Mandos.

Thranduil sat unmoving, devestated by his grief. Upon seeing this, the young prince realized that he would have to take charge, at least for the moment. He took the babe from the arms of their dead mother and held her close to him.

"Cuilwen," he said. "A life for a life."

The prince ordered that his mother's body be prepared for burial. He handed his sister to the midwife, telling her to make certain she was fed and cared for while he tended his father.

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The young princess was very beautiful, fut her father could not see it. All he saw was the child who took the life of her mother, his beloved wife. He did not hate her, but could not love her either.

He commanded that, though Cuilwen was her primary name, her secondary name was to be Morwen, and everyone would address her as such.

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The years passed, and Cuilwen grew to be a beautiful young elleth, but also a warrior. She was as deadly as her brother. If it was not for Legolas, she would have had no one. She was only respected in the palace for her rank as princess.

Legolas took to calling his sister Narylfiel, which meant 'Fire brand', though he often shortened it to Nary. He said that her fiery hair matched her spirit, which burned brighter than that of the bravest warrior.

And thus it was that in the year 2941, 2700 years after Cuilwen's birth, her destiny finally caught up with her.

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**ellon**- male Elf (singular form)

**elleth**- female Elf (singular form)

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**You can now find Cuilwen's description on my profile page under A Life in the Darkness.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

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***Cuilwen's POV***

I ran through the halls of the palace, darting around those who stood in my way. Being as short as a Dwarf with the grace of an Elf definitely has its advantages.

My brother always said that I looked exactly like our mother. That is one reason Ada cannot stand to look upon me.

At any rate, Legolas was taking a patrol out, and I had no desire to be left behind in the caverns. That is why I was running, quiver and knives strapped to my back, my bow in my hand, strung and ready for battle. Soon I came in sight of my brother and his men.

"Legolas!" I called to him. He turned to face me, a grim look on his face.

"No, Nary," he said before I could even ask. "Not today. Today you must remain here, in safety."

"Safety?" I said derisively. "There is no safety here, not for me. Soon there will not be a haven for anyone if evil is not kept in check. You need me for this."

I pleaded with him silently, begging him to agree. He appeared to consider for a moment, and hope flared in my chest. Then he shook his head decisively, and the small flame was extinguished as quickly as it had begun.

"No, Nary," he said. "I love you too much to risk your life against the spiders."

He embraced me swiftly and kissed my forehead. After a moment, he released me, striding silently back to his men.

I watched them march silently out of the caverns, the magic Front Gate sealing after them.

About an hour later, I heard the Front Gate being opened once again. I had changed clothes since my brother's departure, in order to look like a respectable lady. It was a sheer, flowing, pale green overpiece, under which I wore a simple shift of white silk. My hair was braided back from my face in a simple style.

I had no tiara, no circlet to signify my royal status. I had no jewelry, save one piece only. It was a necklace that my mother had once worn, and that Legolas had saved for me. It was in the shape of a small flower, the chain and setting made of mithril. The petals were made from small pieces of iridescent opal. The center was a small, perfectly cut emerald, and in between each of the petals was another tiny emerald.

When I heard the gate open, I picked up my skirts and ran to the throne room. Just before I got there, I slowed down, smoothed my skirts, and entered gracefully. With the lack of jewelry, I was able to blend into the crowd which was gathering. I made my way to the front, and was able to see everything that occured.

My brother stood beside our father's throne. His men stood before the dais, weapons at the ready. I looked closer and saw that they were surrounding a group of thirteen Dwarves.

The Dwarves were of all shapes and sizes. Most looked rather frightening, while one looked rather young. There were three who looked similar, and were rather handsome. One of those three, the tallest of all the thirteen, had a commanding air about him. I guessed him to be the leader.

"What business brings you and your folk to my realm?" Ada asked sternly, gazing solemnly upon the company.

"We came to beg," the tallest responded. "Because we were starving."

"What were you doing in Eryn Lasgalen?" Ada tried again.

"Looking for food and drink, because we were starving."

"But what brought you into the forest in the first place?" Ada asked him angrily.

At that, the Dwarf shut his mouth and would not say another word. His kin followed his example.

"Very well," Ada said. "Take them to the dungeons, separate cellblocks, until they feel inclined to tell the truth, even if they wait a hundred years."

With that, they were taken away. The leader and the two young ones who resembled him fought the guards, reaching for each other and shouting each other's names. I realized that they must be related. Perhaps the two younger were the sons of the leader. The others struggled as well, all reaching and calling for someone. I must admit, hoever, that something about the leader drew and captured my attention.

He noticed me watching him. Though he seemed too proud to beg, his eyes pleaded with me to act, to do something, anything.

A lump grew in my throat, and I lowered my head in shame as tears appeared in my eyes. My father was so wrong to do this, but I was powerless to stop him.

At length, all the Dwarves were taken away and the crowd dispersed, leaving only Legolas, Ada, and myself.

"You may leave us, Morwen," our father said coldly.

I hesitated for a moment, glancing at my brother. He looked at me sadly, and I knew he could see the pain Ada's detachment caused me.

When no move was made from either of them, I bowed my head so as not to show my grief.

"Yes, Father," I whispered, lifting my eyes to gaze at him for a moment. I let them drop again and turning, left the throne room.

I wandered aimlessly, not caring where my feet took me. At times, I wondered what my purpose was. I wondered why I had not just died with my mother. All I had was Legolas, and he would never have known to miss me.

I soon found myself in the lowest dungeons of the palace, where I sensed a life form in one of the cells. I could tell it was one of the Dwarves and, growing curious, I moved closer to the door. As I drew nearer, I recognized the leader of the group, although he had been stripped of all but his pants and simple tunic.

"Have you been given any food yet?" I asked him softly.

He looked at me for a moment, disdain in his eyes. It cut at my already bleeding heart, but I ignored it, deciding to persevere. After a short while, he shook his head.

"No," he said tersely. "I have not."

I pursed my lips, considering my options. Finally I made up my mind and said, "I will return soon."

I turned and left, heading to the kitchens where I came upon the butler, Galion. He was an amiable fellow, seemingly always cheerful. I requested that he make a small but hearty meal. He complied without question, and I was soon on my way back to the leader's cell.

"Here," I said when I arrived, and had pushed the food through a wide slot in the bars on the door. "I know it is not much, but it is all I could manage."

"My thanks," he said grudgingly, giving me a questioning look. "But why did you help me? What do you want in return?"

"I want nothing," I said, looking at the ground. I remembered my father's indifference to me, and shook my head. "My father is wrong to have ordered this."

He froze in the middle of eating, and looked at me sharply. "Your father?"

I nodded. "My name is Cuilwen Morwen Thranduileth, but he has ordered everyone to call me Morwen."

He looked puzzled. "Why would he want to call you Dark over Life?"

I looked at him in amazement. "You speak Sindarin!"

He nodded. "It was one of the things I was taught as a lad," he said calmly. "Before Erebor fell to the Dragon."

He was watching me closely, and I realized he expected a reaction. I smiled sadly.

"Well do I remember the tales of the glory of the Lonely Mountain," my gaze becoming distant. "My brother visited those halls with our father when the Arkenstone was discovered. Legolas said he had never seen such a jewel."

"It was a marvel indeed," he said. "A sign that the King's right to rule was divine." His thoughts seemed to wander before he looked at me again.

"You did not accompany them," he said. "I would remember an Elf with hair the color of flame in the midst of the heads of pale gold."

I looked at him, my gaze sober. "I have never seen the world beyond the forest. I know of it all, but..." I trailed off, shrugging slightly.

I hesitated for a moment, then decided to take the plunge. "I just want to say this," I continued, my voice softening. "I wish that my father would have helped your people after Erebor was taken. If I could have convinced my father otherwise, I would have. I know my brother tried, but our father's heart cannot be touched."

"What do you mean?" he asked me. I looked down at the floor, trying to hide the pain in my eyes.

Suddenly, I heard the sound of approaching guards. I looked into the cell, and saw that he had finished eating.

"Give me the plate and cup," I whispered frantically. He did as I said, and I hurriedly left.

I returned the dishes to the kitchen and went to my room, as it was growing late. I bathed myself and dressed for bed. Only when I was lying in my bed encased by the darkness did I realize that I never asked the Dwarf his name.

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**Ada**- Father


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

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**To my guest reviewer, TheHobbitFanatic, yes I do only write Thorin fanfics. I used to write more, but now this is pretty much it. I am sorry if that displeases you, but I still hope you enjoy my stories!**

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***Thorin's POV***

It had been about three days since Thranduil's daughter had come to me with food on the day of our capture. Three days, and still I wondered about her. She did not seem to be like her father. There was something there, something that I was missing. It was just beyond my reach, but I could not grasp it.

Something about the girl had drawn me to her, since I had first caught her looking at me when the Company was taken before the Elven-king. Her very name intrigued me: Cuilwen Morwen, Dark Life. I wondered what had happened for her to receive such a contradictory name.

She looked nothing like the Wood Elves. Her flaming hair and steel grey eyes stood out in sharp contrast to the blonde haired, blue-eyed Elves. Also, there was her height. Though she appeared to move as gracefully and fluidly as all Elves, she was just as short as I am.

Cuilwen. Her very name entranced me, throwing my heart and mind into complete turmoil. My heart wanted to know her better, to know everything there was to know about her. But my mind fought hard against my heart. My mind brought up all the hatred I had ever felt towards the Elves. It brought up all the reasons I had to hate Thranduil. And when I remembered that he was her father, I growled angrily, jumping up to pace the small cell the Elven-king had put me in as I muttered Khuzdul curses under my breath.

Yet another reason to hate Thranduil, I thought grimly. Suddenly, I felt a presence outside my cell door. Someone else was down here. I turned to face the iron bars and saw a short form, lithe and graceful.

"Hello," Cuilwen said to me softly.

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***Cuilwen's POV***

I walked through the tunnels, trying to avoid as many guards as I could. Especially Legolas; he would know in a moment that I was up to something.

Fortunately, my brother was no where to be found as I made my way to the cell of the Dwarves' leader. I used my agility and light weight to my advantage, working my way through the numerous dimly-lit passageways.

Finally, I reached the lowest dungeons and came to a halt in front of the Dwarf's cell. He was pacing the floor angrily, muttering under his breath in Khuzdul. From the way he was glaring at the walls, I assumed he was cursing.

I considered him for a moment. He was very handsome, and his obvious fury did nothing to detract from that. In fact, if it changed anything at all, our made him look even more attractive.

His black hair with only a few streaks of grey, his powerful, strongly muscled body, and his eyes, his beautiful sorrowful deep blue eyes...

I realized my thoughts and hurriedly brought them to a screeching halt. Just then he stiffened, turning to face the bars where I was standing.

"Hello," I said softly.

He looked at me in confusion for a moment, then anger overtook his face once more.

"Why have you come?" he demanded.

I hesitated for a moment, looking down at the ground.

"As I said before, my father is wrong to do this," I said, my voice barely a whisper. I looked up as my confidence grew slightly. "My brother and I both know it, but Adar would listen only to Legolas. And about this," I shook my head. "My brother has too much to lose to try to persuade our father. Centuries worth of anger and grudges fester in his heart, and the only person who could even hope to heal him is now gone."

We were both silent for a moment, and I then remembered the question which had haunted me for the past three days.

"If it is not too forward of me, May I ask your name?" I said to him.

Instantly his defenses see up, and he gazed at me in suspicion. I felt yet another gash open on my scarred heart and felt the blood flow, filling my eyes with hurt. Another feeling fell over me:despair. It seemed that I would ever be regarded with suspicion and hatred. I lowered my head and turned away, tears filling my eyes. I walked toward the exit, until I was halted by his deep voice.

"I am Thorin, son of Thrain," he said.

I turned to look at him, surprised that he had responded to me. He had moved from the back of the cell, now clamping the bars with his hands. His eyes looked at me briefly, and I saw how vulnerable he felt in that moment, with his name in my possession.

I smiled slightly, turning back to him. My eyes, I knew, still betrayed the pain I felt at his earlier reticence, though I could hardly blame him for not trusting an Elf, especially a child of Thranduil.

"Please," he said, his voice pleading. "Please stay. I can't bear being alone down here..."

I sat on a short stool by his cell door. "I am used to solitude. Legolas is the only one who cares what becomes of me."

Thorin's face remained neutral, but his eyes showed confusion, as did his voice when he spoke.

"But surely your father and mother care, and love you as well," he said, his voice puzzled.

I shook my head. "My mother died in childbirth to me. As a result, my father cannot stand the sight of me. Naneth's last words were to beg Adar to name me Cuilwen. He did as she asked, but added Morwen to it, and instructed all of his subjects to address me as such. Legolas is the only one who does not. He calls me Narylfiel, meaning 'Fire brand,' though he usually shortens it to Nary."

Something flickered in Thorin's eyes, and I realized that it was a spark of compassion. He reached his hands through the bars, gently encasing mine.

"Forgive my earlier harsh words," he said, his sapphire blue eyes piercing mine like daggers. "I was too hard on you, judging you by your race before I knew anything about you."

I nodded, accepting his apology. "There was no harm done. It is in the past now."

He seemed relieved to hear that, and I smiled slightly at him. There was something nagging at me, and my brow furrowed in thought. Suddenly it came to me, and I gasped at the realization, though I kept my voice down.

"You are Thorin Oakenshield," I whispered in awe. "King Under the Mountain, heir to the throne of Erebor!" I realized then where he was bound, and why my father might not want him to get there. "That is your quest. You are going to reclaim Erebor!"

He nodded, and I paled slightly. "You have to get out of here," I muttered to myself. "Erebor must be retaken, and Smaug destroyed."

"You support our quest?" Thorin said, looking at me with an incredulous expression on his face.

I nodded. "Aye, I do. You must succeed; the fate of Middle Earth rests on this," I said, my mind churning.

He grasped my wrist through the bars and said, "I will not let you risk yourself just to free us."

I laughed mirthlessly. "What more can my father do to me? Already I do not have his love, but he would never harm me; he loved Naneth too much. The worst he could do would be to banish me, and I would gladly take that if it meant saving Middle Earth." I gently freed my hand from his and backed away from the cell slowly. "I will find a way out for you, Thorin Oakenshield," I said to him. "I swear it on my life."

With that I turned and went back to the upper levels. On the way up one of the stairs, I tripped over something in the floor. I fell with a small yelp, which was echoed in another voice. I realized that I must have tripped over a person, though I was paying attention and did not see anyone. I reached down and grasped the person who I had tripped over. But when I looked, there was no one there.

"Whoever you are," I said in a low warning voice. "Make yourself visible this instant."

I heard a sigh, and the person I was holding moved slightly, then did as I bade him. He was a short being, and slightly chubby. His curly blonde hair was badly mussed, and he had traces of spider web clinging to him.

"Who are you?" I said in curiosity, my voice hushed.

He sighed and said, "My name is Bilbo Baggins. I am a hobbit of the Shire."

"Let me guess," I said. "The Company of Thorin Oakenshield is thirteen Dwarves plus one hobbit, yes?"

He nodded, a startled expression on his face.

"You are trying to find a way to help them?" I guessed, and he nodded once more. "I want to help you get them out."

He looked very confused. "Why? You're an Elf. I thought your people hated each other."

"The Dwarves have hated my father and our people since the fall of Erebor when he turned away from their suffering," I answered him.

"Your father?"

"I am Cuilwen Thranduileth," I answered him, dropping the surname my father had given me. "Thranduil is my father."

He gasped and said, "Then shouldn't you be glad to see them imprisoned."

"I am not my father," I told him. "And what my father is doing is wrong. I am looking for a way to break Thorin and the rest of your Company out of here. Can I count on your help?"

He nodded, speechless, and I nodded at him in return. "Good. Now, make yourself invisible and follow me. The room I go to will be where you can find me, and if I am not there, you can wait there for me."

He nodded and put something on his finger, disappearing as soon as he did that. I headed towards my room and went in, closing my door behind me. I tried to go to sleep but was kept awake all night trying to think of a way to free Thorin and his Company. I could not fail him- I could not.

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**I hope you liked it! Please review! :D**


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